


Chilled to the Bone

by AfflictedwithAlliteration



Series: Cotton Candy [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: NON-GENDERED READER, Papyrus is too sweet, Reader-Insert, Sans is a turd, Silly Sweetness, The skellies try but they are dense, fluffy fluff, vignette style writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 21:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfflictedwithAlliteration/pseuds/AfflictedwithAlliteration
Summary: It finally comes to your attention that the skeletons can't feel temperature.





	Chilled to the Bone

Snowdin.

The name was a pun. You knew that was Sans fault, it had to be. But even though the name was a terrible and cheesy joke, it didn’t stop it from being one hundred percent correct. There hadn’t been a day where you didn’t help the skeletons shovel the snow away from the door but today it was too cold.

There was a scarce amount of clothes, let alone gloves, in the snowy town and today the mittens just weren’t cutting it.

* * *

“Feeling blue, kiddo?”

“Feeling frostbite more likely.” You mutter, burrowing farther into the couch. Sans cocked his head, eye lights scanning over your form. There was a smidge of curiosity there and maybe some worry. You waved it away. 

“S’fine. Don’t you guys have a heater?”

“Nope.”

* * *

“Papyrus?”

“YES, HUMAN?”

“Do you guys have any blankets?”

“OF COURSE, HUMAN! HOW SILLY OF ME TO FORGET TO OFFER THEM.”

When the skeleton came back you didn’t know why you were surprised that the ‘blanket’ was a small dog throw. But hey, it was better than nothing.

* * *

“THAT IS HIGHLY UNSANITARY, HUMAN.”

“You probably should wash your clothes, Sans.” You mumble but stay curled in the pile. You’d woken up to the window open in the kitchen, a light dusting of snow coating the counters. You would have gone and snuggled with Papyrus but skeleton bones were not the comfiest and Papyrus slept like the dead. 

Sans was already gone so logically you’d went to steal some of his blankets but there weren’t even sheets on his bed today. There had been only one choice. Burrow in his sock pile. 

Which lead to the current situation of both skeletons staring at you like you were crazy and Papyrus trying to coax you from the stinking pile of laundry that you were not leaving.  


“I’m not leaving.”

“…whatever you say, kiddo.”

* * *

The small skeleton is the first to do it. Curling up too close to you not the couch until he’s practically smothering you and snoring but it’s the warmest you’ve been in months.

You don’t question it and for once sleep is easy that night and Sans doesn’t say a word about having to sleep on the couch all night. 

“Thanks!”

“Forgetaboutit.”

But you don’t and take it as permission to cuddle every time you can corner him on the couch.

* * *

You don’t know why they were insisting you stay home while they go to the library when the usually made you go everywhere in the cold but you figured now they were catching on. Because flat out telling them it was cold only seemed to get an agreeable nod or a look for pointing out the obvious. 

They were just lucky because they didn’t have skin.

* * *

The tall skeleton follows suit because he hates to be left out then continues because he’s so proud of his ability to keep his pet happy. 

“YOU LIKE TO CUDDLE, HUMAN? NO WORRIES, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WON’T FAIL TO GIVE YOU ATTENTION ANYMORE.”

The words don’t really make sense and you don’t really care until later that week.

* * *

“HUMAN, I HAVE A QUESTION.”

“Sure, Paps.” You mumble from where you’ve curled up, practically under him while he watches you with a strange mixture of pride and curiosity. 

“WHAT IS A HEATER?”

“…what?” You sit up as you hear Sans snort from his recliner, but he doesn’t answer so you assume he doesn’t know either. “You don’t know what a heater is.” It’s not really a question because how is his question even a question. You look to Sans but his gaze is bored but you recognize the slight awkwardness to his smile. 

“You’re really serious.”

“I’M ALWAYS SERIOUS HUMAN. UNLESS I AM PULLING A JAPE ON YOU, WHICH I AM NOT RIGHT NOW.”

“It’s to make it warm. Like…warm up the house? You know, like you’re gloves keep your hands warm?”

“YES, YES OF COURSE. HOW SILLY OF ME.” But his eyes are shifty. You narrow your own and it finally clicks. Papyrus words from earlier, Sans awkward cuddles, the look they’d given you when you curled up in their clothes, the books. 

You can help but laugh. You try to smother it so you don’t offend Paps or make him embarrassed, Sans deserves to suffer for not asking like the grown up he says he is. 

“Guys, do you think I’m lonely?”

“No!”

“YES!”

“Oh my—I keep telling you I’m cold. I’m cold that’s why I’m cuddling. Body heat?” As soon as you say it the rest of your amused tirade dies. Body heat. For which you’d need a body. You smack your forehead. “You guys…you can’t feel the weather can you?”

“UHHH…” Ever the great Papyrus he doesn’t wish to admit there’s something he can’t do while Sans just shrugs, cheeks dusted the faintest blue. You groan and burrow back under Papyrus to hide your own blush.

“I’m just cold. Humans need blankets and more clothes.”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS KNEW THIS! HE WAS JUST TESTING YOUR KNOWLEDGE.”

* * *

You don’t know why you’re surprised when the very next day Papyrus has you bundled up in four shirts, two shorts and a pair of pants, Sans jacket—much to the shorter skeletons chagrin—and Papyrus own boots. 

He’s even wrapped a sweater around your head. 

With a sigh you debated if it's even worth explaining, settling for an awkward smile, "Uh...thanks, Paps."

"YOU ARE VERY WELCOME, HUMAN!"

Yeah, you're not gonna argue with that smile. At least dying from heat stroke is better than freezing to death.


End file.
